


Hair

by orphan_account



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F, Fluff, a drabble from the tumbles.com, there's no plot it's just fluff lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7636426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You seriously need to cut your hair."</p><p>"You're not the boss of me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair

"You seriously need to cut your hair."

"You're not the boss of me."

Marisa pouted at her stubborn friend, who released her hair from the ponytail it usually sat in. Her extremely long, violet-black hair flowed onto the floor by a few inches; only altered by her shape.

"It's always been like this." Meira huffed, taking a lock of it in her hand. "Since we were kids, too."

"Doesn't mean you shouldn't change it." Marisa raised an eyebrow, taking a lock of it as well. Soft, a little dry but silky, a hair type she recognized from another close friend of hers. "Besides, it's getting in the way."

"I don't think so. Besides, it's not your hair."

"You tripped over it yesterday." Marisa deadpanned, knowing her point went across when she earned no reply. "It gets caught in the door, it takes you an hour to comb it...When was the last time you cut it?"

"When you fried it with a laser." Was Meira's reply, slightly annoyed. She cared little about her appearence, she wasn't trying to impress anyone. But her hair had always been like that, as long as she could remember. She trimmed it of course, and her bangs often went through changes. That's what they called those, right? Bangs?

"That was a complete accident." Marisa defended, remembering a friendly spar of theirs from maybe a year or two ago, she didn't keep track. Typically only clothing was ruined, which could be repaired relatively easily. But hair was different. It turned frizzed and charred, a deep black. And it smelled _terrible_. Thankfully, it hadn't taken more than a few inches off, but that didn't make it okay. "You can have long hair, this is just...unacceptable."

Marisa chuckled a bit at the unfitting seriousness, having lacked a better word. "...Do you have scissors?"

"Excuse me?" Meira turned to look at her, clearly not pleased with what she was implying. Her expression was always stoic, or a bit serious, and now was no different. But with her hair down, there was a weird femininity she typically didn't have. She'd seen it before, but it took Marisa by awe every time. "You're not cutting my hair."

"Oh, come on, I won't take off that-"

"No. It's not that I don't want it cut, either. I just don't trust you with something that takes so long to grow back...Or with sharp objects near my face."

"Meira, Meira. _Meira._ _C'mon_." Marisa placed both hands on the woman's shoulders, facing her now. "I have the utmost precision of anyone you know. I have to make perfect magick circles that even a centimeter off will send everything into flames daily, I have to fly at high speeds on my broom through crowded treetops, I-"

"Alright, I get it." Meira sighed, standing up and going into the room beside them, hair flowing behind her. She returned with a pair of scissors, hand clutching it tightly. She sat down with another sigh, passing them to Marisa dejectedly and sitting upright. "You better be damn careful. No shorter than my waist!"

"Got it." Marisa said, grinning brightly. A big, wide grin that pushed her freckle-covered cheeks up and showed off subtle dimples. The scissors snapped, and the sound of clanking metal sent a wave of 'she doesn't got it' through the other.

...

"I said no shorter than my waist!" Meira half-shouted, feeling the weight suddenly lifted off her and the slap of the hair against her back.

"Well, I did that, but it was uneven, so I had to redo it a little shorter. And then that happened again, and again, and-"

"Enough. You've said enough." She rubbed her forehead in annoyance. She could feel it, her straight, fine hair reaching just in the middle of her shoulder blades. It felt so unnatural, so light. Just how would it look when it was in a ponytail? Could she even put it in one?

"Hey, 'least it's even!" Marisa said, but the other didn't lighten up. She never really did, but Marisa could usually get at least a weak smirk from her. "How do you feel?"

"Exposed."Meira muttered, arms around herself.

"Aw, it's not that bad." Marisa crossed her arms. "...Look, how about this, you can cut off a little of mine!"

"You act like that's a reward."

"Not a reward, just...revenge!" Marisa smiled. "I mean, mine's just as much a mess, you always nag me about it too."

It was true. Marisa's wild, fluffy curls were untamable. Marisa stopped trying to long ago, only washing it or tying it back when she needed to, even if it just poofed the elastics off and into the distance soon after. Many brushes and especially combs were lost in her attempts."It probably needs some fixing anyways."

She took her hat off, her gravity-defying curls rising a bit at their freedom. Meira looked at her, weighing if it was worth the time or not. Maybe it'd be satisfying to see her hair short enough to be uncomfortable, but she wouldn't know. And little upset Marisa anyways. "...Sure. I at least took care of mine. You never even pick up a brush."

"Hey, I would, but they all break when I try." Marisa replied, turning around and handing the scissors over her shoulder, taking a deep breath has she did.

* * *

"What happened." Reimu asked, but it came out like a command. The two had gone to visit, as they often did. And if it weren't for their clothes and the undeniable height difference, she wouldn't of recognized them. Meira's hair had turned wavy now that was without the weight, like others of her bloodline and Reimu's own. It was left down, too short to look normal in her usual style. And Marisa's hair was barely below her ears, pushed behind them and the curls rising higher on her head, framing her face like a weird blonde bush.

"Well..."


End file.
